Of Ash
by Faraway Dawn
Summary: To be a vampire, is to walk among shadows, apart from the world. I did not expect it, I did not want it, but I embraced it for a time.


**Of Ash**

**By: Faraway Dawn**

**Disclaimer: Bethesda rules the world, I admit that though I am genius enough to have created Morrowind, they beat me to the punch. **

**AN: I wrote this off the top of my head under the effects of sheer inspiration after playing the vampire quests on my new character Nadjaa, named for my final fantasy 11 character. Whose name means 'hope.' **

**Warnings: Uh...light spoilers and citrus?**

CHAPTER 1

_There is something so intoxicating about the taste of blood. The dusty taste of copper on one's lips can leave them longing for more, and the thudding panicked pulse of a victim is probably the most exhilarating moment one could live for. _

_To be a vampire, is to walk among shadows, apart from the world. _

_I did not expect it, I did not want it, but I embraced it for a time._

I was a careless adventurer, none too wise in the true dangers of hidden alcoves, caverns, and musty ruins.

I did not believe vampires existed in Morrowind, and as such, I felt no fear walking into my own demise.

Ashmelech, I had heard it called, was a hidden away velothi structure, filled with riches beyond my wildest dreams. I was not greedy, but I was not one to shy away from the prospect of wealth. I gathered my things at my home on the Odai plateau, armor, weaponry, and practiced a few spells.

I was a wizard of the Mages Guild, versed in the magical arts, and cunning to boot. I had learned well the short blades and ranged weaponry that made for a grand assassin. I looked over my prize, my Daedric longbow, I repaired before checking my quiver to be sure it had plenty of arrows. I had soul gems with me, a few potions to restore my magicka, and some light robes to shield me from the rain and ash that would plague me on the journey to the Sheogorad region.

I looked over my set of armor. My boots were a treasure I had recovered in my time with the Imperial Cult, and they looked to be in peak condition. My cuirass however, was not up to snuff. The legendary Cuirass of the Savior's Hide, I found while looting Tel Fyr. It had been a gamble one night after a storm, I doubt a single one of the towers inhabitants realized I was there to plunder her. It had sustained some damage in my last…er… 'profitable endeavor.'

I set to repairing the body piece and glanced over my glass bracers, greaves, and pauldrons. Luckily for me, I would not need to waste time repairing them. One of the grounds keepers on my estate of Rethan Manor, aided me in dressing.

"You'll not be gone long I assume, master?" He asked tightening the leather straps of my greaves.

I knew the young Dunmer had a bit of a crush on me. He was only a few years older than I. "Oh, I doubt it'll be a memorable trip, surely I'll be back within a fortnight."

"So long? Miss Nadjaa?" The young woman setting food on the table asked. She was a divine cook! Truly a gift from the gods that she had asked to live with me at Rethan Manor.

"It won't be all that long. It will take me a few days to get there, I plan to map out the region before I leave." I answered sliding on my glass bracers.

"You will return safely then?" The young man helping me dress asked. His blood colored eyes bored into my own. I could almost sense the longing in his voice.

"Of course." I laughed. Surely the north held no dangers I could not handle!

I set out only a few hours later, to the sound of falling rain and thunder, I made for Hla Oad, only a short distance from my home. The locals knew me well, I often hunted in the caverns along the swampy coast, ridding the area of smugglers and bandits. One guard waved to me, another crush I assume, before I boarded the ship that would take me onward.

In a better part of a day, I reached Khuul. The salty smell of the Sea of Ghosts greeted me and I hastily cast my spells. A spell to walk upon water, one of my all time favorites, and an invisibility spell, to cloak me until I reached my destination.

"She'd have been better off just taking a boat to Dagon Fel aye?" One of the Nordic women muttered watching the water splash as I ran across it, unseen to the mortal eye.

"Probably." A dunmer man answered with a laugh. "But she's an explorer, she's not the type to never sample the Ashlands on her way north."

"She'll be crawling ashore with blight." I heard another say before the sounds of Khuul were lost in the sound of wave and wind.

I traveled most of the day along the ashen coastline. I felled racers with my arrows, and struck down the creatures that dared assault me as night grew near, and somehow I knew, my target lay just beyond the rolling waves. I could feel Ashmelech calling me. Her treasures and secrets would be mine.

Not long seemed the night, when I felt the ash bearing winds upon me. The winds howled like restless demons, and I found myself near an ashlander camp. One of the tribe, out of pity, had offered to let me rest by the fire of the ashkhan and his fellows. She gave me a blanket and insisted I be on my way at dawn, come hell or high water.

She cared little that the winds might not subside by morning, but she did say that at least, I would be safe from attack in the night. I could sleep with ease, but the small tribe would not tolerate my presence longer than the night.

I bowed my head to show her I understood and allowed myself to sleep with ease by the fire.

When dawn came, I felt well rested, and was on my way before any could wake. I left three thousand gold septims in a small bowl by the dying embers, a token of my gratitude for the ashlander's kindness. I had been told, that such a price would have been a fortune to the nomadic tribes. Even in the towns, a bed only went for a mere ten septims. These people had little, and I had much, parting with so little that would mean so much to them…well it did not trouble me.

Again, I cast my spells and began to cross the waters of the Sea of Ghosts. My heart hammered in anticipation, I felt like a predator stalking its prey. Ashmelech had haunted my dreams. I could almost see her barely lit halls, twisting into darkness, hiding her treasures. It was the thrill of the hunt, and I was eager to make the kill.

I came upon the island the hidden halls were rumored to be on. I wandered before finding her wooden door amidst the flashes of lighting and pouring rain. I lifted a hand to run along the strangely smooth door. The lost jewel, Ashmelech, hidden in the wilds, whose mysterious halls had claimed the lives of many adventurers…about to be conquered.

I opened the door and stepped out of the rain. A strange chill crept over me. I felt ill at ease, and had no cause to be uneasy. I did not fear this place! I could feel the shift in the air around me. Something was watching me, waiting for me, beckoning me into the darkness.

I slid on my ring, given to me by Mephala, and used the Ring of Khajiit to cloak my form in shadows. I ran through the halls, picked locks, foiled traps, and found myself falling into the depths of Ashmelech. I looked above me. There was a hole in the floor! I had fallen several stories down, and only the enchantment upon my shield had saved me.

I dusted the dirt from my robes and found myself looking into a pair of white eyes. Terror ravaged my body! It was a vampire!

She laughed at me as I drew my weapons. The glass blade cut through her skin, and still she laughed. I felt my energy being drained from me, I watched the strange violet light leave my form and vanish into her hands. I was on my knees and I felt her draw near.

I screamed in agony as I felt fangs tear into my flesh. My head began to throb, and I realized I had contracted the disease. I'd been warned about porphyric hemophilia before. There were rumors that vampirism was a common disease, not a horrible curse of the gods. I kicked the woman sharply away from me and cried out as her fangs sliced my neck in the process. I cast a spell of recall, and collapsed against a warm bed in the Lucky Lockup tavern in Balmora.

I don't remember how long I slept, but I had a dream about a girl with tears of blood. I tasted the blood and found myself yearning for more. I woke shaking and aching. I glanced down at my hands, their ashy color slightly paler than usual. I ran my hands through my hair, and felt the cold sweat on my brow. I was weak and weary, and for some reason, I was craving that salty copper taste from my dreams.

I rummaged through my bags and found all my indexes. I pulled out my map, which bore several notes along the side. Apparently, I had cast mark before leaving Balmora. I looked around at the small room and froze in horror. The mirror bore no reflection.

What had happened? I recalled the fangs, I recalled my screams. I lifted a hand to my mouth and felt the fangs that were now there.

I had become a walker of the shadows. I glanced out the window to note, that it was nearly sunset. Once the sun set, I would return home and gather my things. I knew I was not welcome among the mortal world, I would have to find sanctuary among my kind.

Entering my home greeted me with screams of horror. My kindly servant told me to leave her master's home, and when I spoke to her, told her it was I, she screamed.

"Vile beast! Away with you!"

"Sera, it's me, Nadjaa. Be calm." I pleaded.

"You are not the master I served!! You have no place here!" She yelled. Her words tore into me deeper than the fangs of that vampire. Even the young male who fancied me eyed me in horror.

"You should leave." He said coldly. "I'll prepare your things, but you should not return to this place." I watched him gather my belongings, and felt as though I was drowning in icy water when he shoved me out my own door, and slammed it, leaving me in the heavy mist of night.

I felt something cool slide down my cheeks. Were those tears?

I thought of the world I would leave behind as I cast my spells and made stead to take the long trek back to the very beings that had caused my affliction. Fortunately, my trusty indexes, would make the trip easier.

In the shadows of night I stumbled toward Hlormaren Stronghold. I could smell mortal flesh in the area and was driven, ever closer, to the stronghold. I was forced to quench my thirst. I killed the inhabitants, bandits more than likely, of the stronghold, and drained their energy from them. In my bloodlust, I nearly shredded the mortals corpses after feeding upon them. If they were unfortunate enough to survive, they too would follow me into darkness.

I felt refreshed though, and left the stronghold. I shoved open the heavy doors of the Propylon chamber and used the indexes in sequence until I reached Rotheran.

This was the Sheogorad region's former dunmer stronghold. I would be able to return to Ashmelech easily from here.

I crossed the islands, sending most beings that crossed me running in fear. I killed what remained persistent. I felt the tug of Ashmelech again, and found her strong wooden door as the sun began to rise. My form collapsed against the cold stone floors and I heard a snicker and laughter around me.

"What's wrong new blood? Was your journey back too hard?" I heard an Altmer male laugh.

"Leave her be." Another spoke. I felt his hand push back my hair.

Do not misunderstand. Altmer males are not my type, not by a long shot, but his voice was unnaturally warm and gentle, coming from a vampire.

"Going soft on her? She's not even proven her worth to a clan. We could always get rid of her…"

"She is ill, I'll not allow it." The same gentle voice said lifting me with ease. "I'll see to her wounds, she can present herself later."

I heard a door close and the man laid me down on a bedroll.

"Forgive me, I know it is not quite as comfortable as what I am sure you are accustomed to." He said removing my armor little by little. "Be at ease girl, I will not harm you. You are one of us now, and your injuries will not heal in a natural way. I have some medicines, made for vampires, that will help your wounds close faster."

"This clan will not shun me?" I asked quietly when he removed my shirt to tend to the lacerations on my neck and shoulders. I was not perturbed at all by him removing my clothes. Normally, I'd have injured a man who dared touch me.

"It depends on if you can prove your worth to the clan." He said as his hands massaged a bit of a black ashy paste into my skin. It felt cold and my wounds seemed to respond to it quickly. It made my body feel stronger, so I asked what it was. He smirked. "Ash, taken from our foes, mortal bones, ground and charred, mixed with the blood of the living." He nodded his head to a young Nordic woman in shackles. "She serves the clan in a medicinal way, we do not harm her, I merely draw some of her blood every few weeks to make my remedies." The girl did not lift her gaze.

"Where did you learn of such things?" I asked, not sure if I was crossing the lines.

"I've been a vampire for many years, at some point, one learns that to ensure survival, we must be willing to seek remedies where there are none. Many have died of simple wounds like yours." He said bandaging the wounds. I felt a finger trace the healed scar on my neck, where I had been bitten. His touch sent shivers through me. "You too will become like us, dependant on the blood of the living, aching for it. Immortal by the laws of time, the hunger will either consume you and guide you to madness, or drive you to find a means of control. Medicine is my control. What will yours be…"

"Nadjaa." I said quietly looking away. "That was what they called me."

"A lovely name." He answered returning to his alchemical set. "Not a name suited for a walker of shadows, sounds more like the name of a lover." He chuckled adding material to the calcinator to burn.

"I doubt I have any sex appeal to anyone now." I muttered darkly pulling my shirt back on. "I'm a monster to them now."

I barely noticed the hint of a strange smile on his face. "What do mortals know of desire though?"

This strange altmer captivated me. He spoke eloquently, his clothes I noted, were suited to that of a noble. He didn't even look like the other altmer I had seen. He did not have the haughty tone to his voice all the others had. He spoke like a dunmer, but was tall like the altmer. Even his facial features were not quite altmer, and had a dunmer tone to them. His skin, while pale indeed, was strangely golden and ashy at the same time. His eyes were sharp, and his hair was…dark…

He noticed that I was staring at him.

"I'm half blooded." He said almost as though he had read my very mind. "I was born in an era where there was great racism."

"There's still a lot." I muttered sitting up slowly.

"Of course, but at the time, one born as I was…" His eyes narrowed. I could tell from his features that if I could see his eyes as they were, they would have a bitter look. "My mother had little choice but to abandon me. My father raised me in secret. His dunmer blood, his status among the Telvanni, allowed me the freedom to hide easily among the many towers of our estate. I heard rumors, that my mother was slain by vampires, which is how I lost myself to vampirism. I have no regrets. I was hated and persecuted for being half blooded. When you are hated for something so foolish, being hated as a vampire is hardly a concern."

"You enjoy spending eternity locked away here?" I said quietly. "Haunted by dreams and the desires from a time when you could feel?" I thought of the dream I had, when I had rested only a short while a few hours prior. I dreamt of long days spent basking in the sunlight of Morrowind. I could feel the warmth and the heat, and felt your body become refreshed. Then I woke, and realized the warmth, the heat, the refreshment, was merely a dream.

He looked at me. "You truly are not suited for this life." He laughed. "You'll be one of the ones who try to find a cure, and die trying."

I tried to get to my feet and fell to the ground before him. I was still so exhausted. He told me I should rest, and I ignored it. I tried again to get to my feet and found myself again on the floor trying to push myself up. The chair he occupied slid across the floor lightly as he stood. He drew a key from his robe and locked the door. He explained that since I was not a member of the clan yet, technically, allowing me to recover in his room, was against the rules.

I tried again to move and felt my chin titled up. He was staring at me, fathomless white eyes boring into my own. "You must rest and recover your strength, or this clan will tear you to pieces." Again I felt him lift me lightly and move me to the bedroll. He however, hovered above me for a few moments after forcing me gently to lie on my back.

I saw in his eyes something I'd often seen in the eyes of others.

Hunger. Desire. Lust.

I felt a rush of energy I could not describe pass through me when I felt his cool lips against my neck, my pulse erratic beneath them. The feel of his fangs against the scar on my neck caused my body to lift uncontrollably from the bedroll, pressing me closer to his form. I heard the soft laughter in his voice. "What a pity it is, that I was not the one to pull you to this world of darkness. Such sweet skin…your blood must have been divine." He abruptly pulled away, leaving me lost in need for his touch. Could a man truly affect me so? A man I did not know, and had just...met? Not just any man, but a vampire? "Rest now." He commanded softly returning to his seat and lowering the light from the lamp with a wave of his hand. "You will need your strength for the tests our leader will set you to."

I could not sleep, I could not take my eyes off him, I did not want to try. He continued his work for a short while before removing his robe. He wore elegant attire, but I noticed he had kneeled beside the bedroll again.

"Sleep." He whispered, draping his robe over me. "I can assure you, that I will be here when you wake."

Did he know what I was thinking? Did he know I wanted him to hold me in his arms? Why did I want that anyway? I was a vampire now, and were not such mortal desires meaningless to the vampire that would live for an eternity?

"Hm…you're still a bit…" He'd have said pale if it wasn't so ironic, I was sure.

"Sickly?" I whispered.

"Quite." He laughed. He turned and pulled a cup from his table. "Drink this, it's not quite as fulfilling as blood, but it will hold you over until you can recover." His arms lifted me into a sitting position and he tipped the cup against my lips.

There was a sudden thud on the door.

"Imarien, she's in there isn't she? The new blood. Bring her, the master wishes to see her at once."

"She's asleep." The man holding me lied. "I will bring her as soon as she wakes, you have my word." So his name was…Imarien?

"Nn. Very well…" The voice outside almost hissed through the door. I felt uneasy.

Imarien glanced and spoke in barely a whisper. "My apologies, you are not yet trusted by the clan, they will not treat you kindly until you are."

"Imarien, was it?" I whispered back. "I know of the name. You're nearly three hundred years old…" His name was in many stories I had been told by members of the guild. The mages had said he was one of the greatest Nightblades in history.

"Much older my dear, you forget my mortal life…"

"And?" I asked. I could see there was more he wished to say. "You've been trying not to say something since you brought me in here." My voice sounded rougher than I remember it being. "Out with it."

"Your mere existence is infuriating to me. What it is about you, I can not say, but it stirs in me something I long presumed dead." He laid me back down and stood. "You see, we live, but we do not. While the normal things that sustain mortals have less of an effect on us, we still fall prey to the desires of our mortal lives. All of us will tell you there is no greater thrill than to taste a victim's blood, to feel the panic in their pulse as you drain their energy from them."

A wave of his hand extinguished the lamp on the table. I heard him move closer to me in the dark and felt him sit beside me on the bedroll. "I however, will tell you, the only thing more pleasurable than that, is the taste of a lover's lips upon your own, their scent overpowering your senses, the sound of their cries, and the feel of their flesh against your own. If it wouldn't kill me to become a mortal again, I would seek a cure, if only to feel those things again. For as you said little one, we are monsters, we are not worthy of love."

His speech mesmerized me. How strange I felt to long for this man. "Why were you so hated…as a mortal?"

He laid down beside me and looked at me. "My blood is mixed between altmer and dunmer. My dunmer father gave me fine features, as some would say. I had his eyes, his face, his hair, physically I greatly resembled my father with far lighter skin. I do not bear the deep ashen color in my skin, though I did have the blood colored eyes. You have undoubtedly noticed, my skin is paler, still ashy, but more golden, perhaps the color would be…sandy."

I nodded, knowing his eyes could see me as clearly in the dark as I could see him.

"My physical appearance was startling, even among the Telvanni that knew me. Unfortunately, I was gifted as well." He lifted his hand and held a pale glowing ice shard before me. "You see, while Altmer are weak to various magic, they are also the greatest wielders of it. Their magical reserves are enormous."

I stared at him. It was so ironic! Had he truly received the best of both worlds?

"You could say, I received the best of both worlds. I did not inherit my mother's weaknesses to magicka, but I did inherit her skill with it. I also inherited my mother's magicka reserves. I suppose, being born in the middle of Sun's Dusk did little to aid my already great reserve of magicka."

His blood red hair was elegantly cut. Short soft bangs fell into his eyes in the front, and the rest fell back over his shoulders. For some odd reason, I felt it complimented his eyes well, even though I admit, if his eyes were red, as he said they had been before he became a vampire, I might very well have forced myself upon him.

Even now, the thought was tempting. "Yes, that would have made you quite the accomplished mage. Tell me, why do you look at me like that? Such hunger in your eyes."

I saw the flash of his fangs when he grinned. He leaned towards me and whispered into my ear, "Why do you look at me the same way girl? What prompts you to react to my touch?"

I trembled as his hand slid down my stomach. I apparently, had forgotten to fasten the buttons of my shirt.

"You do not shake in fear of what I do, you shake out of desire for it, and you wish me to do more than merely touch you. You wish me to take you…and somewhere in your heart, you wish it had been me who drew you into darkness with us, you wish I had been the one to leave this scar upon you."

Again his lips pressed to my neck. I felt his fangs graze the skin there lightly after his lips and I ached to have him do more.

"If you were not still recovering from your transformation, I would happily entertain the thoughts in your mind." I felt a light nip against my neck. His bite was not deep enough to draw blood, but deep enough to arouse me. Deep enough to mar my skin.

"How do you know of the thoughts in my mind?" I asked him weakly. I thought of telling him he could have me, do with me as he pleased. If it was possible to feel sexually fulfilled as a vampire, I wanted him to use me for that purpose. I could not even explain why. Something in his eyes, his touch, something in the way he spoke drove me to hunger for him.

"I can read your mind as though you were speaking the words to me little one." He answered.

So he did know! He knew of my-

"Yes, I know all about the desire you feel for me at this moment, and I know you can not explain it."

"If you know what is in my mind why do you not act on it?" I nearly growled in frustration. His hand still caressed me lightly, and I felt it slip down into the pants I wore. My gasp of shock and pleasure was muffled by his lips against mine. I felt his fangs lightly slit my lip, and his tongue brushed across it to taste my blood.

"Do you see Nadjaa?" He murmured against my lips. "We are vampires yes, but we are as alive as those who do not share in our cursed immortality." His eyes had a hazier look to them. He seemed drunk with desire, and he continued to taste the blood flowing from my lower lip. "The taste of blood intoxicates us, and still, you feel the pleasure a mortal feels…do you not?"

He silenced my cry with a kiss. I could feel his fingers slide into me. Did I want this? Gods if only you knew… Did I need it? Again…if only you knew.

"I-Imarien…" I stared at him lost in pleasure, lost in sensation. My own fangs slit his lip in a kiss, and I tasted his blood.

There were only a few rules vampires ought obey. First, never drink the blood of a dead person. Second, savor the blood of your victim. Third, never travel by daylight. Last, but certainly not least, never taste the blood of another vampire.

_The taste of another vampire's blood will intoxicate you, bind you to them, you will need them as badly as you need a victims blood. Their touch will have an effect on you for eternity. _

"We…have broken a rather sacred rule, dear Nadjaa." He whispered. "To taste the blood of another vampire…it is nearly as sacred an act as consummating a marriage. Actually…to a vampire…this could very well be the consummation of marriage."

"A sin I am pleased to have committed." I answered darkly. "Now…does that mean you will not hesitate to take me now?"

I felt only the smirk on his lips before I found myself lost, truly lost, in shadow.


End file.
